The Morning After
by Kylie18
Summary: How would everyone react the morning after Tony's return to Fairfield? It's kind of like waking up after the storm of the century. Where do you begin the clean up? How much damage is to much? Or can you just see into the sun and move forward? Don't let the summary scare you, it's not really that serious. Rated T because Mona is, well...Mona. Hope you enjoy.
1. Authors Note's

Just a few quick little notes before we begin:

This is the first of two or three vignettes that will lead into a bigger series. There's clues to storyline of that fic in each of the vignettes.

I might be one of the few, but I loved the way the show ended. The final scene was perfect, and left so much to the imagination. This is just my take on what might have happened after Tony came home.

I plan to write this with the same kind of humor that he show was based around, but the fallout of Tony and Angela's breakup and his return home is actually something with a lot of depth and emotion. Hopefully I can blend the two and keep everyone in character. I am taking a few creative liberties, which you'll notice throughout (taking quite a bit in the multi-chapter fic these are leading up too) but for the most part, I intend to follow true to the shows canon.

Several times throughout the vignettes you will see Angela referred to as Sam's mom, and likewise Tony as Jonathon's dad. IMO, it's out of character for Sam or Jonathon to actually call them mom and dad, but in terms of who they are to the kids, they are mom and dad.

Hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Mona shook her head as Jonathon followed her down stairs. "I'm letting you drive."

"Oh great, another day of you leaning out the window cat calling all my friends," He sighed from the bottom of the stairs.

Mona shook her head. "Not all of them. Only the legal ones."

"Geez, grandma…"

"Relax, you'll have your car back from the shop in a couple of days and I already promised not to actually pick up any of them until then," She laughed as they headed for the kitchen. "Come on, let's go suffer through your mother's cooking."

It really was suffering, but they kept quiet; did their best to hide their unhappiness. They'd gone through all the housekeepers the agency recommended and even a few the neighbors suggested. Most of them had been fine, pleasant even. But there was always some fault to be found. If they were honest, they would just say what the real issue was; none of them were Tony. They didn't mention him or anything to do with him, despite the fact that Sam still visited regularly. They wanted to move on, they wanted to put it all behind them, at least they agreed to move on to get Angela back among the living. They would be the first to admit that nothing was ever going to be right as long as Tony was in Iowa.

So they grinned and bared it. Ate whatever it was she put before them. They did laundry, or at least tried, and mopped the floors. They kept conversations light and made small talk. There seemed to an unwritten rule that all conversation of substance was off limits. Probably because it would lead back to Tony, to Iowa, to the fact that no one had really smiled in months. They floated around the house like strangers living under the same roof, like the past never existed. Like time stopped ticking, but life kept moving.

"I don't know how much more of Mom's cooking I can take," He grumbled, hands on his stomach as they neared the kitchen door.

"Doesn't smell as bad today," Mona mused, "I don't smell smoke and fire alarms haven't gone off."

"That's already a better start than yesterday," Jonathan shrugged. "I hope whatever it is; it's fully cooked this time."

"It almost smells like pancakes," Mona said leaning toward the door.

"Yeah it does. Does mom know how to make pancakes?"

Mona shook her head. "She didn't yesterday. I think I smell nutmeg…"

"And cinnamon," Jonathon finished, confused.

"It almost smells like…." She trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Like Air Jemima's," Jonathon finished quietly.

It couldn't be. They'd finally cracked up. Finally gone off the deep end; finally lost all touch with reality.

"It can't be…" Mona half asked, half said, but Jonathon didn't reply. He was already blowing past her and into the kitchen.

* * *

"Hank, honey, wake up," Sam said, throwing back the covers, while she tugged at her husband's arm.

"Ugh Sam, leave me alone. Let me sleep. It's my one morning off."

"We have to go to Angela's for breakfast, let's go. Come on."

"I don't want to go to Angela's for breakfast. I haven't recovered from yesterday's breakfast," He reminded her, pulling a pillow over his head. "I don't know how much more of your mom's cooking I can take."

"I know Angela's cooking hasn't been, great…" Hank groaned at his wife's description of Angela's dalliances in the kitchen. "Okay, most days it hasn't even been properly cooked, but I have a feeling today is going to be different. Come on, move it."

"It's never going to be right over there, Sam," He reminded her, pillow still over his head. "Not without…"

"Don't say it, just get up and get dressed, please. We're going to miss it!" She tugged at his arm, pulled him gently, sending the pillow to the floor. "Come on, come on."

"Miss what? Sam…"

She hated lying and keeping secrets, but she'd promised her dad. He'd taken her to the airport and they said their goodbyes. She'd grabbed her bag and been ready to board when he stopped her. Told her to wait; wait for him buy a ticket. He called Dr. Graham from a payphone near the gate and apologized profusely for what he was about to do. He tried to make the whole thing sound as professional as he could, but when it came down to it, they all knew.

He was going home to Angela.

His seat was two rows behind hers. They talked over, around, and through everyone near them. He didn't have a plan. He didn't know what he was going to say or how he was going to say it. He wasn't even sure Angela would open the door to him. He hadn't even gone home to change out of his tux or put his plaque on the wall before he jumped on the plane He was winging it. Flying by the seat of pants. He was taking a chance. Throwing caution to the wind. He was going to take her in his arms and never let go; that much he knew.

The taxi dropped them off in front of Angela's house. Sam had little doubt that things would work out, this was Tony and Angela after all. But if it didn't, he'd sleep on her couch. If she neither saw nor heard from him after he got out of the taxi, they'd all meet at eight for breakfast at Angela's.

"You'll find out soon. I promise," She smiled as he finally got out of bed.

"Fine but if I have to choke down more half cooked sausage and runny scrambled eggs, you're going to owe me forever."

"I have a really strong feeling that you won't be disappointed. Hurry," She smiled and threw him his clothes.

She knew he wouldn't be disappointed.

**To be continued**


	3. Chapter 2

**A few authors notes**: I struggled with Tony and Angela's conversation and what I thought they talked about; how they talked about it. And it was never quite right, so I went with a less is more approach to both their conversation and their interactions. This feels better. Like we know they talked, and they're going to talk more, going to start rebuilding...but the pieces are in each individual readers imagination to fill in. Hope this works. I also went with a humor/light approach here, because that's how the show handled even the most emotional and important moments.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"Tony," Jonathon breathed softly, his arms thrown around Tony in the biggest bear hug he could manage; considering Tony's back was to him.

Tony jumped slightly; neither he nor Angela had heard the door open. They were expecting the family any second, and had been taking playful bets as to who would be the first one through the door. "Hey buddy," His voice cracked slightly and his hand moved from the skillet on the stove, so he could clasp his hands over Jonathon's arms. He'd ached for Angela, but he'd missed this…his family, more than he'd even realized.

Jonathon held him tighter, but didn't speak. No one did. They were taking in the moment. Savoring the emotion; letting the healing being. Letting the moment wash over them; letting their embrace say what their words couldn't. Soon, they would be a family again.

"When did…" Jonathon started softly, taking a step back.

Tony turned to face him, Angela at his side. "Last night," He offered simply. There was so much time they'd lost, so much time they needed to make up for. There was so much he needed to say, to Jonathon, to Mona, to Sam but the words seemed lost in the back of his throat.

Jonathon nodded, a bright smile playing on his lips. "Does this mean…" He asked of his mother.

"Tony and I have a lot to talk about, sweetheart," She started, her words directed at Jonathon but her eyes were on Tony, "but we both realized that together is always better than alone."

Jonathon nodded with a satisfied smile. "It's about time."

"That took you far too long," Mona interjected from the doorway. Her face was serious, but her eyes shined back at Tony. No matter what happened or how much time had passed, she knew they'd all be here again one day.

Tony was nodding as he crossed the small distance from the stove to the door. "What can I say, I'm slow," He dragged out the last word with a knowing smile.

"Something's never change," She smiled and walked into his outstretched arms. She should be mad at him; she should read him the riot act. She should say and do a lot of things, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything other than hug him back. "Last night, huh?" She laughed, looking up at him with a wink. "The door to your room was open when I got home. I got home late," Her eyes drifted over his shoulder and fixed on Angela. "I guess some things do change."

"Mother…" Angela started to scold, but her smile was bright and playful and for once she was happy to let her mother think whatever she wanted. This was the first morning since she'd left Tony in Iowa that she felt like she was breathing again and she was going to hold onto the feeling as long as she could.

Mona shook her head, sliding out of Tony's arms. "She hasn't smiled like that in months. Whatever you did, keep doing it." She punctuated with a playful jab to his stomach.

"For the rest of my life," His words were firm, pointed and his eyes were back on Angela. This wasn't a laughing matter or a time for jokes, but he was happy for her levity. He was happy for the normalcy. For any signs that they could pick up the pieces, rebuild their lives.

"Pancakes and bacon," Jonathon mumbled through a mouthful, having helped himself to breakfast before sitting down at the table. "I haven't eaten in weeks. Bless you, Tony."

"I've cooked you three meals a day for the last two weeks," Angela shook her head at him, but her voice was light and her smile playful.

"You cooked. We ate. We vomited," Mona shrugged. "You tried dear, but let's not fool ourselves into believing that anything you put on the table was eatable."

Angela opened her mouth to reply but the backdoor swung open and Sam's voice rang out. "Oh, we missed it. I told you to get dressed faster," She chided Hank, while they barreled through the door.

"Tony…" Hank pushed out though a surprised breath as he took in the sight before him. "Welcome home! Oh, pancakes…"

Sam was hugging her father and Angela, arms strong and firm around them. "Together is always better than alone," She reminded them, her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes. "I can't believe it took you so long to remember that." She was half talking to her father, half to Angela, still holding them close. Angela was crying with her, as Tony whispered his thanks. She'd quietly and slowly nudged him for months; mentioning Angela, Jonathon or Mona whenever she could work them into the conversation. She never asked him to talk about his feelings, or tried to convince him to go home to Connecticut. But she never let him forget.

"I can," Mona nodded, helping herself to breakfast, "took them seven years to even admit they loved each other. We should be grateful it didn't take another seven for them for stop being so stubborn and get back together."

"You are back together, right?" Sam asked, stepping back from their embrace only long enough to look up at them.

"I'd like to think so," Tony said, eyes on Angela. "What do you think Angela?"

"I think…" She started, words directed at Sam, but her eyes on Tony. They'd been on Tony since she opened the front door; last night, eight years ago... "we've wasted enough time apart." There was so much to be said. So much they needed to talk about and settle. There were a million questions she needed to ask and there were probably a million more they hadn't thought of yet. But they were going to answer all of them, together.

Sam smiled, leaned up to kiss Angela on the cheek and then did the same to her dad. "Good. We'll eat quick and get out of your hair."

Mona mentioned something about watching the agency for the day, so Tony and Angela could spend the day together. Sam and Jonathon were playfully grumbling about being siblings, and Hank was happily eating his breakfast. It was a scene they usually took for granted and never stopped to appreciate.

"You really can go home again," Angela smiled at Tony. She wasn't the one who'd left. She wasn't the one who was a thousand miles away, but that didn't change the fact that they had all been gone. Emotionally and mentally; they were just as far away as Tony had been.

He nodded and snaked his arms around her waist. He pulled her close, her body warm against his. "It's a nice little home, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's very nice," She confirmed, pressing the words into his lips. "I think it's the best home anyone could ask for."

"Oh course that means there's no reason to leave."

"No leaving," She blew into his lips. It wasn't a question. It wasn't a statement. It was a fact. They were here, together and that is how they stayed.

It felt like waking up the morning after the storm of the century. Yes, the clouds still hung low in the sky, but the sun was peeking through now, soaking the debris in hope and light. They were through the worst of it, and the pieces were before them, ready to be patched back together. Ready to be weaved together into a new, stronger foundation.

"No leaving," He replied, pulling her into the warmest, strongest, hug he could. He wasn't sure of a lot; where they stood, where they went from here, or even if they could truly pick up the pieces, but he knew he would never let her go. He figured it out on the plane; he wanted the job at Wells. But he didn't need it. He needed Angela.

And that was enough.

They were enough.

**Fin**


End file.
